


Like a Daddy’s Girl

by rbcch



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: An AU in which Aja’s dick isn’t alarmingly big, Anal Sex, Bottom Farrah, Daddy Kink, I can’t do this I’m sorry I just can’t, M/M, PWP, Rimming, Smut, Spanking, Top Aja
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-29 12:54:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12631482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rbcch/pseuds/rbcch
Summary: “God, daddy, yes,” he lets out before he can catch himself.They both freeze, staring at each other slightly cross-eyed because Aja is hovering right above him.“I… mean… Oops?” Farrah offers finally, but there’s no apology in his voice.Or, Farrah jokingly calls Aja daddy, and Aja kind of likes it (maybe a little bit too much).





	Like a Daddy’s Girl

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aqjuliet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aqjuliet/gifts).



> For my lovely Juliet, happy belated birthday and welcome to the 20s club <3 I’m sorry this took me so long! Hope you like this at least half as much as I liked writing it.
> 
> This is nothing but a PWP at its purest and I apologise for everything in advance. Titles inspired by Rich Girl by crazy talented and brilliant bundle of daddy issues that is Natalia Kills.
> 
> TW - daddy kink, spanking, and a brief but very insensitive joke about daddy issues. Remember kids, black humor is a valid coping mechanism and don’t listen to anyone who tries to tell you otherwise.

****Farrah doesn’t really consider himself a kinky person.

There are things he finds hot. There are things that turn him on. And then there are things that _really_ turn him on. Granted, some of those things are the kind of stuff one wouldn’t necessarily discuss with their friends in the middle of lunch. Or during any other meal, for that matter, or actually during any activity that happens when everyone’s sober and it’s not 5 am. Unless you’re Shea and you go around shamelessly telling people you’d hate fuck them, but that’s kind of another story. Nevertheless, Farrah is not kinky. He doesn’t have kinks. He has _a kink_ , but that doesn’t make him kinky. That makes him… a person, but not a kinky one.

It’s not even the idea of an older guy, or someone taking care of him, or a fatherly figure, or anything. It’s just the word, it really, _really_ turns him on.  It’s the idea of saying it while he’s being fucked, the idea of someone taking him like he’s theirs to be taken,  someone telling him exactly what to do. It’s the idea of a strong man claiming his body, like he’s begging to be ravished. It’s the idea of being at someone’s mercy, manhandled around and maybe spanked a little like he’s a dirty slut and deserves it. The idea of  being called a baby girl, being told that he’s been _so good for daddy_ while bent over, taking it like he’s a prostitute on demand.

(He guesses daddy issues come in sexy packages sometimes.

Good thing men like girls with daddy issues.

Or so he’s been told, anyway.)

So, his little daddy kink doesn’t wear off when he starts dating Aja. On the contrary, it actually kind of intensifies. He can’t really help it, couldn’t even if he tried, because there’s certain things about Aja that are just about enough to drive him crazy. The way Aja sometimes pins him against the wall and presses rough kisses on his skin. The way Aja holds his hips while they take him from behind, tightly and firmly. The way Aja pushes into him when he’s been teasing them for hours in inappropriate places, with love in their stare and wild, impatient frustration in their movements. Aja just basically pleads to be called daddy, and every time Farrah thinks of it, he manages to work himself up into the state of extreme arousal and awkward boner.

Unfortunately (for all parties included, Farrah’s sure), Aja doesn’t really share his fascination, that much has been clear ever since Farrah decided to try the waters.

“Daddy,” he had greeted Aja, drawing out the y, when they had walked into the kitchen one morning.

“No,” Aja had simply said before turning around and heading straight back into the bathroom. Farrah was pretty sure he had heard the shower running.

So, yeah, the prospect of Aja  getting into being called daddy in bed was very unlikely. Thus Farrah decided to continue doing it outside of bedroom as a joke, just to enjoy Aja’s reaction (and okay, maybe to entertain his little kink a tiny bit). And Aja’s reactions were pure gold.  There were three of them, although the frequency of them varied, and sometimes Farrah got a mixture of two or all of them — Aja either got annoyed and rolled their eyes, or they got all flustered and Farrah could swear even blushed sometimes, or they decidedly ignored Farrah for the rest of the day. The annoyance usually meant Aja would be a tiny bit rougher with him in bed that day; them being flustered meant that Farrah could push it even further; the ignorance had been Farrah’s least favourite until he found out that when teased even more, Aja went from ignoring him to fucking him on the kitchen table in a heartbeat.

However, the very first time Farrah actually does it during sex, it’s a pure, honest to God accident. He’s on his back, Aja between his legs, licking moans off Farrah’s lips, their thrusts deep and slow, their hand on Farrah’s dick between the two of them. They twist their wrist in a new way, and Farrah is _gone_.

“God, daddy, yes,” he lets out before he can catch himself.

They both freeze, staring at each other slightly cross-eyed because Aja is hovering right above him.

“I… mean… Oops?” Farrah offers finally, but there’s no apology in his voice.

There’s a shadow of something foreign in Aja’s eyes, but  before Farrah can begin to read it, Aja snaps their hips almost savagely, eliciting a howl out of Farrah. It’s like the atmosphere in the room shifts, the air suddenly so heavy with tension it’s almost suppressing, but in the best way. There’s absolutely no  evidence of the way Aja was making love to Farrah just moments ago left when they grab Farrah and flip him on his stomach, forcing his  ass up and pushing into him almost aggressively. Farrah just keeps howling into pillows, searching for something, anything to cling to and ending up ruining the sheets in his fists. Aja just slams into Farrah with no finesse until Farrah is a mess of sobs and incoherent pleas, sore and sensitive and aware of the way the reminder of this will ache all through his body tomorrow. Aja doesn’t slow down, not until they come and jerk Farrah off.

Farrah can’t hold his hips up himself, so as soon as Aja loosens their grip, he falls onto bed, powerless and fucked out and spaced out.

“I need a smoke,” Aja says and Farrah hears them move around the room before they head for the balcony. Theres a loud bang, like something just hit the rail, but Farrah is too out of it to get up and check what happened.

Neither of them brings any of it up. Not the thing Farrah said, not the way Aja reacted. Not five circular bruises Farrah discovers on either side of his hips the next morning, not even the fact that they’re both too sore to have sex for almost five days after all of it. 

They don’t talk about it.

That is, until Aja comes home after grocery shopping about two weeks later. Farrah is sitting in the kitchen, cleaning his makeup brushes. Aja takes uncharacteristically long to put the groceries away. When they’re finally done reorganising pasta boxes in one of the cupboards,, they slowly turn around and lean on the counter.

“I want you to do it again,” they say quietly.

“Hm?” Farrah hums, too concentrated on trying to remove pink from his blending brush. White bristles are sure pretty, but damn are they unpractical.

“I would like you to do it again,”  Aja repeats, articulating the words carefully.

“I need you to be a tad more specific, babe,” Farrah mumbles, spraying more cleanser on the stupid brush.

“Farrah,” Aja says pointedly and Farrah lifts his eyes.

“Babe?”

“That thing that you did,” Aja says, “I want you to do _that thing_ again.”

“Jesus, Aja, I have no clue what you’re on about,” Farrah chuckles. “Are you talking about that stupid Trinity impersonation? It’s not even that funny.” He puckers his lips and opens his eyes wide, “Peppermint has… a personality.”

“Oh my God, Farrah, no,” Aja says, their eyes large and staring at Farrah like he’s being difficult. “I’m talking about _that thing_. The thing you did in bed the other day.”

Farrah stares at them with furrowed brow, trying to  remember what exactly it was he did in bed the other day, and suddenly the realisation sinks in like a ship would sink, slowly until there’s enough water to make it a death weight, and his brows shoot up.

“Aja!” he screams, jumping up. That makes Aja flinch. “Oh my God, you want me… You little shit, you want me to call you daddy during sex, don’t you?”

Aja quirks their eyebrow and purses their lips, but it’s clear that they’re not denying anything.

“You liked it, didn’t you?” Farrah says and takes a step toward Aja.

“Maybe I do,” Aja says through their teeth.

Farrah stops in the middle of another step, “You… do?”

Aja looks pained.

“Wait,” Farrah says pointing at them. “Wait a sec, _you do_. All those times you’ve been annoyed and rolled your eyes, all those times you looked like you don’t like it, oh my God, you were pretending, weren’t you? It actually _does_ turn you on!”

He’s closed the distance between them, his pointed finger pressed to Aja’s chest now.

“You kinky bitch you,” Farrah’s words are full of triumph and excitement.

“Stop teasing me,” Aja hisses.

“Will you spank me if I don’t?” Farrah jokes.

“I just might,” Aja says very slowly.

Farrah closes his eyes and inhales sharply, Aja’s words making his stomach turn and twist.

“I’ve been a really bad girl and I think I need a spank, daddy,” he whispers, aiming for his best breathy voice.

Aja’s response is instant. With a groan, they grab the wrist of Farrah’s still outstretched arm and twist enough for it to hurt but not be unpleasant.

“That’s it, baby girl,” they growl as they start dragging Farrah toward the bedroom. “I’ve about had it with your sassy mouth.”

All of it, the words Aja speaks, the way they’re not at all careful when they touch Farrah, it’s just _so hot_ and it’s too much and it makes something in the pit of Farrah’s stomach tighten with anticipation and lust and raw need to be fucked right there and then. It is literally all he’s wanted for so long, all he’s been thinking about when they’re apart for too long and he’s got nothing but his hand and his imagination to entertain himself, and it hasn’t even really started yet it’s everything he imagined and wanted it to be and more. Just seeing Aja’s willing reaction to being called daddy, hearing them call him baby girl, Farrah’s dick is already twitching with interest and Aja hasn’t even properly touched him yet.

Aja lets go of Farrah’s wrist when the two of them enter the bedroom. Farrah holds it close to his chest and rubs it with his other hand. He can tell it’s going to bruise, so he pouts a little, more for a show than anything else. Aja sits on the bed and considers him.

“Pants off, baby girl,” they say. Farrah hurries to drop his pants and step out of them, leaving them on the floor, and stands in front of Aja in just his shirt and underwear.

“Your underwear, too,” Aja commands softly.

Farrah slides his thumbs under the waistband of his boxers, but hesitates a little.

“Come on, baby girl, you wouldn’t want to make daddy impatient, now would you?” Aja prompts. Farrah decides to play it up a bit, so he turns around and keeps his legs straight while he bends over and removes his boxers, sliding them down slowly and wiggling his ass before straightening himself and turning back to face Aja, the piece of clothing still in his hand. Aja’s eyes are fixed on him, their pupils large and dark with desire and their teeth teasing their lower lip.

“This good, daddy?” he breathes out and drops the underwear on the floor.

It looks like Aja bites their lip hard before responding, “Very good, baby girl, now come here.”

Farrah complies, crossing the room and stopping right in front of Aja. They pull him closer by the collar of his shirt and press a quick kiss on his lips before removing that last piece of fabric still covering Farrah’s body.

“On my lap,” they tell Farrah, and there’s a kind of demand in their voice Farrah has never herd before. He aims for Aja’s lap, trying to sit down, but a hand on his waist stops him.

“Oh, no, silly baby,” Aja laughs with affection, like Farrah just missed an obvious joke. “On your tummy.”

Farrah hesitates again, so Aja sinks their fingers into his hips and manoeuvres him so that he finds himself on his stomach in Aja’s lap. They rub his back gently, sliding their hand down at the same time until they reach the small of Farrah’s back, where they rest their hand.

“You’ve been a naughty girl, giving your daddy that smug-ass attitude, haven’t you?” they say calmly. “And what do naughty girls deserve, huh, baby girl?”

“Spanking, daddy,” Farrah mumbles with a pout.

“Speak up, doll,” Aja commands. “Tell your daddy what you need.”

“A spank, daddy,” Farrah whines louder. “I’ve been a naughty girl and I need a spank.”

Aja lets out a satisfied hum and slides their hand lower, resting it on Farrah’s ass now.

“You’ll stop me if it hurts too much or if you don’t like something, right?” they say in a serious tone.

“Oh God, of course, Aja,” Farrah groans. “Just, _please_ , I…”

“What’s that, baby girl?” Aja cuts him off, their voice lower and teasing again.

“Yes, daddy,” Farrah hurries to say.

“Good girl,” Aja says and lifts their hand.

The first slap is so unexpected yet so overdue that it makes Farrah yelp loudly. It hurts, a lot, but the pain excites him way more than it makes him uncomfortable. Aja holds their palm pressed against Farrah’s skin for a moment, rubbing their thumb against Farrah’s ass soothingly, a sweet but short comfort before they raise their hand again and land it on Farrah’s right cheek this time. Farrah is more prepared, so this time he only lets out a sharp hiss.

Aja doesn’t wait between the second and the third spanks, lifts their hand immediately and places another slap on Farrah’s ass, and then another right after, and then another one. Every time their hand comes in contact with Farrah’s skin, it sends waves of pain all over his body, shivers up his spine and shocks down his dick. Aja places their slaps strategically, so that they overlap but never spanking the same spot twice in a row. It’s funny what the pain does to Farrah — with every new print of palm on his ass it hurts less and pushes him into the state of total exhilaration more, making him harder and harder.

He loses the count of spanks Aja gives him, although it can’t be a lot more than ten, but nonetheless he’s sobbing by the time Aja stops.

“That was so good, baby girl, you were so good for daddy,” Aja rubs Farrah’s back to soothe his sobs. “Let daddy make it better now, okay? How about that, doll? You want daddy to make you feel good?”

Farrah nods with a whimper and Aja manoeuvres his limp body again, sitting Farrah in their lap this time and pressing their lips gently on his face. Farrah wraps his arms and legs around Aja, and soon their little pecks turn into full-blown hungry kisses.

“Daddy,” Farrah says breathily. “Daddy, please, I want you.”

Aja groans, “Get on the bed, right now.”

Farrah detaches himself from Aja and slides onto bed, settling on his back.

“Flip over,” Aja commands.

He does.

“Ass up.”

Farrah lifts his ass, his back arched and his cheek still pressed against the cool satin of the sheets. Aja taps the back of his thigh lightly, urging him to spread his legs more, so he does and feels them position themself behind him. They slide their palm calmly up his spine, ending up at his neck and wrapping their fingers around it as if to pin him down.

“Such a good girl,” they compliment him. “It makes daddy so happy when his little girl obeys so eagerly.”

Farrah just whimpers in response, pushing his ass even more in the air. Aja presses their another palm on it and then slides it up his back, too. They let go of Farrah’s neck and lean over him, placing their lips on his spine between his shoulders. They press a trail of kisses all the way down until they reach the end of Farrah’s spine, their hands gently trailing his sides in time with their lips. They leave their hands on Farrah’s hips again and move their mouth on his cheeks, still sensitive and a bright shade of red after the spanking. They trace the prints of their own palm carefully, their touch barely a ghost on Farrah’s skin to avoid hurting him any more.

“Daddy, please,” Farrah whines after a while.

“Little impatient, aren’t we?” Aja hums. “But you’ve been so good so I guess you can have it, baby girl.”

They pull Farrah’s cheeks apart gently, and Farrah lets out a needy whimper, the anticipation and excitement and arousal tangling into a tight  knot in the bottom of his stomach. Aja purrs appreciatively and kisses the end of Farrah’s spine again before drawing a long lick over Farrah’s hole.

“Daddy, fuck,” Farrah cries out.

Aja is fucking unreal, licking and twirling their tongue with such enthusiasm Farrah has trouble believing he isn’t imagining it all. They vary between long, slow licks over Farrah’s crack and small, fast flicks of the tip of their tongue  around and over Farrah’s hole, and Farrah is a sobbing, whimpering mess faster than he’d care to ever admit. Neither of them has touched his dick during any of this yet he’s hard and already leaking pre-cum heavily.

Aja stretches Farrah’s cheeks more and licks inside him in circular motions, tentatively at first but picking up their previous pace soon, and that’s it, that’s pretty much all Farrah can take. His knees give out and he flops on the bed and tries to wriggle away from Aja’s reach as every touch feels as if it’s going to push him over the edge, but Aja pins him down and doesn’t let him escape. Farrah whines and fights Aja’s grip a little. 

“Shhh, doll,” Aja says, “Do you need us to stop?”

“No,” Farrah shakes his head. “It’s just… It’s _so good_ , daddy.”

Aja chuckles at how bewildered Farrah sounds.

“You’ve done so good, baby girl,” they say leaning over him and kissing his neck. “You’ve been so amazing for your daddy. Can you take more, baby? Do you think you can do that for daddy?”

Farrah nods vigorously and Aja places another kiss on his neck.

“Get on your hands and knees, doll. Can you do that?”

Farrah takes a deep breath and gets up on all fours, his muscles still trembling with the way all of this makes him feel — good and turned on and so, _so_ on edge.

“You’re making daddy so proud  today, baby girl,” Aja smirks and reaches for the condom and lube behind Farrah’s back. “Daddy’s gonna fuck you so hard.”

Even if he tries to respond with actual words, all Farrah can produce is a loud, whiny moan. He arches his back even more, impatient for Aja to touch him again, and lets out another whine while Aja loses their clothes in a series of rushed movements. He doesn’t really see what Aja’s doing as they’ve position themself between his legs again, but he can hear them rip the condom wrapper open and busy themself with it and the lube. It’s taking way too long for Farrah’s liking, so he whines and wiggles his ass eagerly in front of Aja. They groan and grab Farrah’s thighs, pulling him closer and making him yelp in surprise.

Aja places another sloppy, filthy lick over Farrah’s hole, and he curses out loud.

“Daddy, _please_ ,” his voice is hoarse and every bit as needy as he feels.

Aja hums in agreement and wraps their fingers around the back of Farrah’s neck like they had earlier and steadying Farrah’s hip with their unoccupied hand, lining themself up with Farrah’s entrance. They’re frustratingly slow and unhurried when they tease him with the tip of their dick, pushing inside of him just a little bit and pulling out before Farrah can even properly feel them. It drives Farrah crazy, the promise of this thing he wants so much and that Aja denies it, postponing his pleasure and relief, and he can’t help but beg, beg for it like a cockhungry slut that he is. The words that leave his lips are disconnected and unclear, a mess of feelings and desire and lust and love.

“What’s that, baby girl?” Aja smirks, pushing inside Farrah just an inch more than before, not nearly deep enough.

“Please, daddy,” Farrah’s plea is broken and pathetic. “Fuck me, daddy.”

Aja growls and slams into Farrah almost violently, and the sudden feeling of being this full makes Farrah scream. He drops on his elbows, his hands shaking and too weak to hold him up. Aja pulls all the way out and slams into him again, and then they start thrusting, their pace quick and merciless. Farrah starts sobbing again when they brush past his prostate for the first time, and Aja readjusts their position to hit that spot on every in and out.

“I’m going to make you come now,” Aja says and their voice is low and dark. “You’ll come for daddy, won’t you?”

Farrah just moves his head and hopes to God he’s nodding and not shaking it. Aja keeps sliding into him, but their hand leaves his neck and they wrap it around his dick that has so far been ignored. The touch is electric, sending little bolts of lightning through Farrah’s tensed muscles, and he’s lost all the control over his voice and body, gasping silently like there’s not enough air to ever fill his lungs again. Aja’s fist is tight around Farrah, and maybe Farrah fucks into it, or maybe Aja moves their hand, or maybe neither of them even does anything, but it’s too much stimulation for him and it’s just few short moments until he orgasms into Aja’s fist, his body contracting around Aja. They push all the way into him with a little grunt and Farrah can tell they’re coming, too.

He flops onto his chest, too tired and spent to do anything else, and hides his face in the pillows. Aja pulls out of him carefully and lays his hips on the bed. Farrah turns his head slightly to quietly study Aja as they wipe their hand on the shirt they’ve found on the floor and throw the condom away after removing and tying it. They lie down on their side next to Farrah and push their hand into his hair.

“You need anything, baby?” they ask.

“Nah,” Farrah says with a yawn. “Just let me lie here for a bit and come down.”

Aja wraps their hand around Farrah and pulls him closer, placing his head under their chin.

“That was fucking… You’re… I am…” they try to start. Farrah giggles.

“Gagged,” Aja manages eventually.

“Yes, daddy,” Farrah laughs.

“This was a one-off,” Aja warns him. “We’re not making this a thing.”

“Sure, daddy,” Farrah says with another yawn.

“And you’re not making a habit of calling me daddy whenever you feel like it,” Aja sounds decisive.

“Whatever you say, daddy.”

“Farrah…”

“What, daddy?” Farrah moves away from Aja and bats his lashes at them.

Aja lets out a frustrated groan and locks their lips in a heated kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m on tumblr now, come say hi to me at rbcch.tunblr.com !


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